


Of All the Gin Joints in all the Towns

by Houseofyork2018



Series: Stucky Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Stucky Bingo 2019, Stucky Bingo 2019 - Time, i'm so bad at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 17:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20139136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofyork2018/pseuds/Houseofyork2018
Summary: Bucky escaped Hydra went they tried to send him after Howard. He's spent the past two decades not aging and driffting.In 2011 a S.H.I.E.L.D operation find Steve in the ice. He reacts by moping.





	Of All the Gin Joints in all the Towns

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writting in nearly 10 years! Knocking off my first Square on my bingo card. Time

Time

Music pounded, Bucky could feel it thrumming through his veins. He didn't often come to clubs anymore, in fact since his escape from HYDRA one fateful night that they'd tried to have him assassinate an old friend fresh out of cryo, with no wipe before hand back in 1991, he'd only been out a handful of times. The arm attracted the wrong sort of attention. And he'd never been out in post WW2 New York. 

After nearly 17 years of drifting through Europe, using his vast language base to blend in as a local or at least not seem to obviously touristy, he'd finally moved back to New York. Back to Brooklyn. Back to where the memories were still fresh despite the decades of neglect. Now in The Boiler Room in DUMBO he was trying to forget. Forget shoulders that were both impossibly wide and delicate, fragile wrists and forearms that look like they'd been carved from marble or cast in bronze and a pair of baby blues that had never changed. That had always looked at him like he was the most important person in their universe. 

He wasn't taking anyone home. Hadn't touched or been touched by anyone since that god-awful morning before the Alps. But dancing. Dancing he could do. Maybe find someone who looked enough like who he was missing to forget for an hour or two. 

He was currently in a press of bodies, gaze roaming the room when he spotted a likely candidate sat at the bar.

Steve was miserable. The SHEILD psychologist had cleared him tenuously, suggesting a list of approved therapists and counsellor, but knowing ultimately that SHEILD wouldn't actually be able to hold him, not if they wanted his help in future. And Nick Fury most certainly wanted his help. He'd made that perfectly clear. So they'd pulled some strings, released nearly 70 years worth of back pay plus interest and set him up in an apartment of his choosing in Brooklyn. Of course he went back to Brooklyn. And it wasn't Brooklyns fault it didn't feel like home. Wasn't Brooklyns fault that his home would be nothing but bones at the bottom of a ravine by now. 

And so he'd taken to wandering his city, because even without Bucky, New York was still his. This time he'd wound up in a bar not too far from his apartment. He'd been drawn in like a moth to a flame by the two women kissing enthusiastically just outside the door. It still blew his mind that what he'd had with Bucky, what they'd hidden in the shadows, was now acceptable. That if he'd been born when his actual age suggested he should have been they could have loved each other openly. And while not necessarily free from hate certainly free from prison or an asylum.

He wasn't drinking to get drunk, no strength of alcohol that he'd found worked on him yet, not unless he drank it so quickly he needed to piss before he could enjoy the buzz. He vaguely noticed someone approaching from the right as he drained his bourbon. 

"Buy you a drink?" Steve's blood refroze in his veins at that voice. For a moment he genuinely thought he was losing it as he turned towards it. He felt like he'd been stabbed as he faced the man to his right, because stood there was Bucky Barnes. Or at least how Steve imagined he'd look had he been born into this century instead of the last. The guy in front of him had long hair tied up in a bun, but some strands were escaping around his face. Eyes the colour of a storm cloud. Bucky's eyes. But the guy in front of him was far bigger than Bucky had ever been. Shoulders corded with muscle. Mouthwateringly thick thighs, a trim waist and arms that could probably even hold Steve up against a wall. Wait. No, not arms, arm, as the left was made of gleaming metal.

"God you're even better than I thought you'd be." Bucky let slip as the blond at the bar turned around towards him. Seriously, the guy in front of him could almost be Steve's twin if not for the lack of fire in his eyes. Steve had never looked so abjectly miserable. Not even when Bucky had caught him kissing Tommy O'Driscole the night they eventually pulled their heads out of their asses and admitted who they really wanted. The music thumped in the background, it's beat pounding along with Bucky's heart. The guy in front of him gave a tiny, sad smile.

"I'm all good thanks." He said indicating his beer, and god even his voice sounded the same. Bucky's heart ached with longing. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The guy in front of him obviously wanted to be left alone and in all of the stand in's he'd had for Steve over the past decade none had ever been this close. If anything he looked too much like Steve, to the point it would feel like a betrayal. However he'd never been able to walk away from Steve when he looked so sad, and it seems like a stranger with his face was no exception.

"I'm Jamie." He said offering his flesh hand to shake. Steve's heart cracked a little more, here was this guy with Bucky's face, charm and on top of that Bucky's name. While Bucky, his Bucky, was bones at the bottom of a mountain range. They'd never found the body the files said, but Howard swore he'd looked for months. And Steve believed him, after all he'd never stopped searching for Steve either and here he was. He took the offered hand.

"Steve." He watched the man in front of him go grey.

"What?" It was almost whispered but Steve's enhanced hearing picked it up. A frown creased his brow.

Bucky could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Steve. It couldn't be Steve. There was no way it was Steve. Steve was dead. Frozen and alone in a cold, watery grave in the Arctic. 'Frozen. Like you were frozen?' a voice in his head prompted. It wasn't the craziest thing he'd ever heard but he needed to be sure. And if it was Steve, then why wasn't he saying anything? Didn't he recognise him? Did he really look that different? But then again the last time the saw each other was as Bucky fell to his presumed death from a speeding train in a vast mountain range in the Alps. No one could have survived that fall. And even with the bastardised serum running through his veins it wasn't enough to save all of him. He flexed his left arm, the mechanisms whirring softly as plates shifted, and suddenly realised he was still holding on to Steve's hand. Impulsively he tightened his grip slightly.

"Dance with me instead then?" He asked, still holding Steve's hand.

"Aint much of a dancer." He replied with a small self deprecating smile.

"Anyone can dance to this," Bucky said "It ain't like I'm asking you to Lindy with me." He watched shock flit across Steves face at the casual reference. "We can just go slow, or if you really won't then you can tell me to buzz off and I'll stop hassling ya."

"Alright." Steve felt helpless but to agree, he drained his beer and let NotBucky pull him to his feet and drag him towards the dance floor. NotBucky turned and pulled him against his broad chest, wrapping one arm around him to settle on his lower back while he guided Steve's hands up to rest on those impressive shoulders.

"Just follow my lead." Bucky suggested pulling Steve against him. He was nearly 100% sure now. He had no idea how or why or if Steve even had half a clue as to who Bucky was but he was almost certain it was Steve. His Steve. He watched as he sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing into Bucky's hold. "There you go pal. Just needed the right partner is all." He felt a shiver go through the blond in his arms and that's how they stayed for what felt like hours, dancing together as song after song after song played around them.

Steve's head was swimming. He tipped his head forward to bury his face against NotBucky's neck. His heart was breaking as his head warred with it's self. There was no plausible way that the man in front of him was Bucky. But there were so many signs that it was. The casual terms, so similar to Buckys, he'd used, his eyes, the way he bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth even as he smiled. "Stevie." He heard murmured next to his ear. His eyes flew open. "You goddamn punk Stevie."

Heart in his throat Steve pulled back. NotBucky smiled at him, a little sadly, but also with something like hope and wonder lacing it. "Bucky?" He almost whispered, not daring to breath to hard in case the illusion in front of him shattered and faded. That smile transformed now, lighting up his whole face, eyes crinkling with mischief.

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine." Bucky says with that heart-breaker smile. And it's Bucky. Beautiful, impossible Bucky. Bucky who'd snuck them into Casablanca in 1942 and been furious later that evening when they'd gone dancing and he'd caught Steve being kissed by some guy outside. That had been the best night of his life up to that point. Steve folds in to him, Bucky's arms tightening around him until they're plastered against each other, no longer dancing, just swaying softly. 

"How? How are you here?" Steve asks breathlessly.

"Now that's a story with real kicker of a beginning but I'm starting to think it's got a happy ended after all. Wanna get outta here soon? My apartment ain't far." 

"Sure Buck. That sounds real good." Steve replies, and he can feel hope blossoming in his chest.

"First though, you know you can kiss a fella in the middle of the street now? It ain't a crime anymore." Bucky says into his ear, lips brushing against the shell, voice soft, promising.

"I have been made aware Buck. I mean I do know where we are right now." Steve replies with another smile against Buckys neck.

"I'm just saying. If you were thinking about laying one on me I wouldn't fight you off." Steve shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling. 

"Alright you jerk-" The rest of his sentence is cut off by Bucky impatiently capturing his mouth with his own. Steve returns the kiss, hand creeping round to cup Bucky's jaw. And he knows, in his bones, it's going to be okay. No matter what they've both been through to get here it's worth it. Putting the plane down was worth it if he gets to have Bucky here, in his arms, laughing and radiating joy. Beautiful, impossible Bucky.


End file.
